


Introversion

by TrashCan_Inc



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: (sort of hurt/comfort but not really), Ficlet, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, Introspective text, Introvert Kobra Kid, Jet Star is a MOM, brief mention of torture, i drink juice when i'm angsting cuz it's fuckin delicious, kobra reads zines about martial arts, low key a vent fic but maybe not idk?, mention of depression, trans boy Kobra Kid (mentioned)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 06:19:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11914971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrashCan_Inc/pseuds/TrashCan_Inc
Summary: Kobra Kid just wants a bit of quiet time, just to hear his own thoughts.





	Introversion

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not as proud of this as my other fic, Luxurious Discomfort, but it felt post-able I think

It was hard being an introvert when you lived in the Zones with a bunch of screaming teenagers.

Kobra Kid dangled one of his gangly legs over the side of the diner's roof, while he read a copy of 'MURDER' Magazine, studying a bunch of impractical karate moves made up by Killjoys who had a printing press on the ready and a lot of free time on their hands.  
The sun practically turned his leather jacket into a microwave, but he wasn't going to be caught dead without it, so his vanity was going to fry him.

He sighed.

It's not like he didn't _love_ his brother, and it's not like he didn't _want_ to get one of Jet Star's motherly hugs, or hang out with Ghoul and Pony and Cherri and The Girl, or hear one of Dr D's stories. It's just that he was tired.

So goddamn _Tired_.

In a desert full of frenzied kids, it's like every yell of revolution, every whoop at a party, and even every moment of eye contact, or a simple " _hi, how are you_?", sucked out a little piece of his energy, a little piece of his _soul_. The Phoenix Witch was taking him bit by bit, and all he could do was just let it happen and hope that She would maybe give some pieces back soon.

Some Killjoys joked that there were no introverts in Battery City, because the electricity in the air always charged their biological batteries. But if that logic were true, Kobra would've tried running on solar power years ago, or would've tried running on the energy of the rebellion itself, like Poison did, charging his heart from every excited conversation, every screech of defiance.

Besides, having grown up in Battery City itself, living as an introverted trans kid with depression, he knew the jokes weren't true. But he'd take being drained by the raucous energy out in the desert any day, over the alternative, which was waking up feeling nauseous at the mere thought of his daily obligations, and being seen as Abnormal for it, being sent to a 'correctional facility' where they'd take his binder away and examine his every move, where he'd let the Phoenix Witch take the rest of him already and leave his physical form to crumble into dust.

Life was good in the Zones. He didn't want to let Her take him. But he needed solitude. Solitude was the only thing that recharged his emotional batteries, and when he was alone to recuperate, it was like The Witch was feeding him back the slices of his soul that She took, letting him be whole again.  
( _Goddamn_ , some of his pals would be shocked if they knew the type of analogies he made about The Witch)  
So thus, Kobra lay lethargically on the old diner's roof, baking in the son, eyes glazed over as he barely payed attention to the pages of 'Murder'.

"You look like you need a cup of juice, Kobra," came Jet Star's sweet voice.  
Kobra rolled his head to face Jet, feeling his neck beginning to stiffen from the position he'd been lying in. Jet came up from a set of stairs inside, through a door in the roof, carrying two plastic cups in a tray, the ice rattling with his movements.

"You mind if I sit here?" he asked, as Kobra gratefully took his drink.

"Sure, why not," Kobra murmured, gesturing to the spot next to him.

Kobra set aside his magazine, and Jet took a seat next to Kobra, while they both sipped their apple juice.

"You look like you've got a lot on your mind. You wanna talk about it?"

Kobra took a moment before answering. "Is it okay if I don't?"

"Sure buddy," Jet smiled. "Do you mind if I--"

" _Please_."

And with that, Jet put his arm around Kobra's shoulders, and pulled him into one of his parental cuddles.

It was hard living in the Zones when you didn't want to interact with people all the time, when solitude was a rare commodity.  
But sometimes, some people were a little less draining than others.

And Kobra didn't wanna sound like a motivational cat poster, but he'd sure as hell rather be out there than anywhere else in the whole world.

 


End file.
